


Where should the line between puncture wounds and blunt force trauma be drawn?

by RaenUE



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Gender-Neutral Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Other, not anywhere near as violent as the title would lead you to believe, reader POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaenUE/pseuds/RaenUE
Summary: Kiran overdoes it with their latest round of unsolicited flirting, and Saias has some pointed remarks in response.
Relationships: onesided Kiran/Saias
Kudos: 12





	Where should the line between puncture wounds and blunt force trauma be drawn?

Saias is staring at you, his expression blank.

You had invited yourself into his room after a long day of fulfilling your duties as Summoner, but he too was tired after his long day of doing... whatever jobs he was on the rotation for this week, and while you succeeded in gaining entry to his living quarters, you failed to gain entry to his heart to the degree that the book whose yellowed pages are being held within his hands had.

That could have been you! That _should_ have been you!

And so, as one does when they are bored, you made a pass at him. It was a moderately lewd comment about how plump, how delectably round and inviting Saias' rear end is, and while it got you his attention, beyond that you received nothing more than that vacant stare, as if he was trying to decide how best to break the news to his commanding officer that the downright scandalous outfit they prepared for him for the harvest festival would never be seeing the light of day without running the risk of lining himself up for a prompt 'workplace accident'. A moment passed and it just as quickly changed to one of realization, now that he determined he would instead feign illness and wear the outfit a single time before them in private if it was absolutely necessary for his continued wellbeing.

Not that this purely hypothetical analogy was something he had to go through. No, that certainly wouldn't have happened. Absolutely not. Never ever, forever never.

"Ah, I understand," he says, marking the page he was on and putting the novel down on the table beside him. It takes him a moment to push himself to his feet from the floor -perhaps he had been in the library all day, running from shelf to shelf as he returned book after book to their rightful homes? It'd explain why he had a new book today- and another to reach his desk, where he begins to search through one of the larger drawers for something.

What could he be looking for? His reaction was as neutral as could be, and what's there to understand abou-BY THE DIVINE GRACE OF ASKR IS THAT A NEEDLE?!

You jump off of his bed in a mixture of shock and fear.

"I know you wouldn't say that without reason, but I can't imagine that you would say it in the first place, so-"

Saias straightens his back and turns towards you, letting you see that he has several foot-long needles whose girth make them feel more like gleaming sterling railroad spikes in his right hand and a heavy, metal mallet in his left.

"-I've determined through process of elimination that despite the words coming from your mouth it clearly wasn't you who said that."

He takes two steps towards you and you take a step back, too panicked to think about if you are heading towards the door or if you are delving deeper into this den of danger.

"Saias, let's not be too hasty now-"

"No, no, it's best to act fast in cases of demonic possession. There's precedent for the possessee's soul being completely lost if the possessor isn't dealt with in a timely manner."

He continues to approach, and you continue to retreat. 

"I'm not possessed, Saias, I don't- It was a joke, you understand? Maybe a bad one but-"

"A joke? No, the Summoner I know wouldn't stoop to such low-brow humor. They're tasteful, and would certainly make a much better attempt at courtship."

Your back hits the bare wall behind you and you realize, with mounting dread, that you're trapped on both sides; there's a wardrobe to your left and a large bookcase to your right, and the only way out would be through Saias -an ordeal your cowering body refuses to entertain. Just the idea itself seems impossibly gargantuan, and with another step he's completely blocked all possible exit routes.

In one deft motion he pivots a needle around so it is being held within his fist by just his index finger, almost as if he were gripping a billiards cue, and points it towards you as he raises the mallet.

You raise your hands to protect your face, which, while you know is a futile action in the face of so many sharp objects in the possession of a priest scorned, nonetheless brings you some small comfort in your final moments. At least you weren't going down without something resembling a fight, right?

There's the sound of metal against metal -the mallet striking the needle, no doubt- and stone chipping, and then... nothing -at least until you hear both sounds again a few more times in rapid succession.

  
There's no pain.

That's the first thing you notice.

Your arms block your view, preventing you from performing a visual appraisal of your body but you're too scared change that, you're too scared to move, too afraid you might shatter whatever illusion it is that still holds your body together, so you have to rely on your other senses to perform it.

Could you have already died?

You don't know what dying is like, but you expected it to be... different.

Did Saias use some sort of esoteric acupuncture technique that caused your body to lose all sensation?

No, you can still feel quite a few things. Your pulse is one of them, and the slightly cold air on your skin another.

There's none of that wet, sticky warmth on your skin as blood oozes out of whatever wounds your body should have sustained during Saias' rampage, either.

  
It seems like you are still alive, and, somehow, completely unscathed.

And so, satisfied that your body won't fall apart like you were on the receiving end of a particularly stylized samurai, you go to move your arms, to allow yourself to finally look at Saias once again, but you can't. You try to pull them away from your face, away from the wall, but they won't move, and you realize where the needles have gone.

Saias has somehow managed to sink the needles nearly all the way into the hard stone, pinning your clothes -and your body in turn- against the wall. 

You try to pull away in vain, harder and harder, but the needles are firmly lodged in place, and while you can't see his face when he next goes to speak, you can feel the disappointment in his voice.

"I hope you take this chance to reflect on your actions," he says, and as you hear him walk away you begin to realize that he has no intention of returning anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> The context for this is that I misread "what if saias were an ass man" as "what if saias has more booty than a pirate" and not "what if saias was primarily attracted to butts" and got halfway through this and didn't want to bail.
> 
> This was my first time writing Saias, and I think he's pretty fun. I'll admit that Thracia is not something I am familiar with in the slightest, so I can't say if my characterization for him is anywhere close to what it should be, but I've always imagined him to be a very... grounded fellow. Not _super_ serious, but still willing put his foot down and assert the boundaries he has set (as you saw here).  
> I think this stage of his relationship with potentially-a-future-romantic-partner!Kiran is a particularly interesting point to look at since Saias hasn't quite warmed up to them yet, so that firmness that he needs to use every so often to get them under control is still there.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this!


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